Let It Be
by Charis77
Summary: The first thing Remus does after resigning from Hogwarts is look for Sirius. Set during the last chapter of PoA.


It might have been any other beach if it weren't for the formidable half eagle, half lion creature dodging in and out of turquoise waters, spearing multiple fish at a time with razor sharp talons, landing briefly to guzzle them down, then repeating the process. Remus pondered the hippogriff a moment, allowing himself an amused smile when a fish leaping to avoid a giant claw was snatched with steel jaws instead. His head was swimming a bit from all the apparating he'd been doing from one cove to another, but he scanned the shore, positive he'd found what he was looking for. Finally. There. Propped against a rock polished smooth by decades of roaring waves.

The reclining figure he'd been searching for currently sported a battered broad-brimmed hat. His dark hair had been cut shorter, curling under the ears, more like Remus remembered, though the man's skeletal frame was still foreign. A loose fitting long-sleeved blue shirt accentuated sallow skin clinging to malnourished bones. The sleeves had been rolled up to the elbows, displaying several symbols and shapes, tattoos that hadn't been there thirteen years ago. Various other etchings echoed these on the sticklike legs jutting out from baggy khaki shorts and ending in bare feet immersed in the whispering surf. The man's right hand encircled the neck of a glinting glass bottle, which he set to his lips before tipping his head back and closing his eyes. The bottle thudded into the sand afterwards and the figure slumped forwards.

Remus slid his hand in his pocket, running sweating fingers across a glossy magazine advert, meticulously folded. This place should have reflected all the ad promised—unparalleled beauty, exotic adventure, a veritable delight of sights and smells—not the weight of regret and sorrow that centered in his chest when he beheld the sight of a broken Sirius Black.

Remus bent over to remove his shoes, then stuffed his socks inside them. As he crossed the level beach, the downy golden powder soothing to his throbbing heels was secondary to the ticking of his heart kicking up in rhythm. So long. So many years. So many misunderstandings. Sirius took no notice of his approach until he crouched down and retrieved the discarded bottle. "White Rat Whiskey? Even you never could hold this."

Sirius' head tipped back, exposing watery grey eyes blinking against the sun. "Bes' there is. C'm on, Moony. Jus' a sip. For me."

Remus upended the bottle and a couple stray drops darkened the sand. "It's gone."

Sirirus grinned. "Get you another. C'm on." He might have been trying to stand, but the possible attempt turned into a sway and a shake of the head, then back to slumping.

Remus sighed. Sirius had always been a happy drunk the few times he and James had let their lack of inhibition get the better of them. He'd waltzed about, running into furniture and cracking jokes that made no sense to anyone but himself. Remus had laughed till his sides hurt. This time he couldn't even conjure a sad smirk.

Remus settled in next to his old friend, dunking his own feet in the warm surf and mumbling under his breath, "Do you even know where you are right now?"

Sirius rolled his head against his rock support, grinning stupidly. "Moony's here."

"Right. I'm aware."

"He foun' me." Sirius' brow creased quizzically. "I didn' tell a soul."

"You didn't need to." Remus dug into his pocket, withdrawing and flattening the advert. Back in the day, its pictures had moved, but they'd long gone still with age. Four distinctive signatures scrawled across it had faded as well. They'd made one last pact before graduation—the second month after their officially granted freedom they'd descend on Sardinia and waste themselves in lazy hedonism on an island declared a "Wizards' Paradise: Glorious Sun! Pristine beaches! Vibrant nightlife!" Sirius had plastered photos all over their dorm with sticking charms so every moment of their last month at Hogwarts was spent surrounded by the sights and sounds of an ocean utopia.

He held the advert in front of Sirius. "Found this crumpled in a corner of Grimmauld Place. I took a chance."

Sirius stared for a long moment before mumbling, "Said we'd go."

But they hadn't. Life had changed within a week after graduation, the call of war and fight against death a greater cause than spending themselves on idle pleasures. They'd come close once, when James had proposed to Lily and she'd suggested the couple honeymoon in Sardinia—along with the rest of them. The corners of Remus' mouth upturned at the memory. Lily'd always been such a good sport, but James wouldn't hear of three mates with a proclivity for merciless teasing and mischievous pranks tagging along.

Sirius abruptly pitched sideways. Remus tried to catch him, but the man was down in the sand too fast and laughing deliriously. When he ran out of breath, he heaved a sigh and went silent, eyes barely moving, fixated on the cloudless blue sky. "Though' you might look fer me."

" _I_ thought you'd write me at the very least."

Sirius snuffled a snort and turned on his side. The fingers of a wave just reached his back, darkening the blue shirt with a wet line. Remus stood, stuffing the advert back into his pocket and holding up the empty bottle. "You have a place nearby with something less hard than this?"

Sirius murmured a reply, but not a word made sense. Remus looked to the sea and whistled lowly. The hippogriff that had been blithely ignoring the two men alighted on the shore a couple meters away, squawking harshly. Remus wasn't sure if it meant to warn or simply express curiosity; hippogriffs were notoriously difficult to read. He bowed low, right hand open but near his belt, ready in a second to draw his wand if this went badly. After rolling its head this way and that a couple times, the creature bent its knees in response and Remus breathed easier.

"Can you take us to wherever he's staying?"

The hippogriff blinked but sank to the sand, and Remus assumed that a good indication it understood at least enough. In short order he'd managed to straddle Sirius on the creature's back and perch behind the man to hold his friend steady. A quick flight and they dismounted in front of a weathered salmon-hued casa. Sirius leaned heavily into him until Remus navigated through the front door and settled him along a sofa. In mere seconds, the rumpled man was snoring away.

Remus took in the surroundings—a living area, a kitchenette, two bedrooms down a short hall. Three cases of various spirits caught his eye next to the kitchen table, and he sighed once more. The hall was stacked with crates. Surely those didn't contain liquor as well? He withdrew his wand, easily removing the nails that secured the lids to discover…paint? Oodles of it. Colors in every shade. He glanced at the slumbering figure in the living area, one arm now dangling off the sofa. "What _have_ you been doing?"

* * *

Sirius groaned against a shaft of sunlight streaking through slotted eyelids and stabbing into his temple. He massaged the sides of his brow with a thumb and forefinger, then ran a hand through mussed hair. Wait. He'd been wearing a hat, right? To hide. Squirrel himself away until the search cooled.

He gripped the back of the sofa, pulling his body upwards and wincing against the buzz in his ears. His legs pivoted off the side and he hunched over his knees. He should get something to remedy this. The fiery acid in his stomach agreed, roiling, and he covered his mouth with a hand. Twat. Too much whiskey.

He fought off the nausea and sat back against the couch, then blinked at a blurry vial on the coffee table. When had he picked that up? He gingerly retrieved it and read a familiar label—Abe's Abstemious Aseptic. He didn't recall planning ahead, but shrugged. Must have acquired it in a less lucid moment. He uncapped the pungent potion, scrunching up his nose, but downed it all in one go.

He pressed into the back of the sofa for several minutes until the neurons in his foggy brain fired up, clearing his mind to recall the beach and Buckbeak diving for a meal and… Moony! The git had tracked him down.

Sirius scanned the compact casa. Where was the mangy wolf? He spied the first bedroom's wide open door. No! Oh no. Bloody git! Sneaking about when he had no right.

Sirius leaped to wobbly feet, stumbling around the coffee table, failing to walk a straight line between the living area and the hall. He clattered into the bedroom's doorframe and braced a hand along it to steady himself before peering inside at the makeshift studio awash with light softened through the filtering curtain of an open window. A slight breeze buffeted the gauzy fabric and ruffled the light brown hair of a slim figure occupying an overly stuffed easy chair.

The face of the occupier was careworn, wrinkled with worry and fatigue, reminiscent of their Order days, when expectations of adventure had turned into the realities of war. Remus wasn't any older than he and already his hair was flecked with grey, the toll of those terrible years and perhaps the wolf as well. Yet, the eyes that met his gaze were the same as yesteryear—intelligent, compassionate, guarded, and for a moment Sirius could imagine an awkward youth in the place of a grown man.

Remus held his stare for too long without speaking, and Sirius cleared his throat, sliding his gaze from his old friend to the canvas perched on Moony's lap—a painting of the full moon bathing a field of heather peppered with four animals gallivanting back and forth from one end of the canvas to the other. The dog, stag, wolf, and rat paused at one end to tumble about in raucous yipping play, though the commotion made no sound. He hadn't managed that spell yet, only the motion. He glanced at the other canvases leaning against walls and tables, a whirlwind of activity.

There was the one of James and Lily, staring at each other and reciting lifelong vows, grinning like two newlywed fools. Several quidditch scenes boasted a goggled Prongs slamming into rivals, hurling the quaffle towards hoops, the Gryffindor stands alive with cheering. A disheveled young Remus grinned from another, dangling a map from one hand and pointing a wand at it. A graduation close up of three smiling young men tossing red and gold ties into the air hinted at boys with idealistic dreams. And then there was the portrait of a rotund youth against a black background, a smile on his lips, but malice in the one visible eye blinking out from a canvas shredded by the fountain of hexes and curses that had been flung at it after its completion.

"These cost a fortune." Remus' cautious voice turned Sirius' attention back to the easy chair. Remus pointed at the table not far away littered with paint tubes and scattered with colored drippings. An instruction book lay open, half falling off the table's edge. "Where did you get the money?"

Sirius dug his fingernails into the molding of the doorframe. After the cost of the casa rental and three cases of booze, he'd spent almost everything he'd been able to scrounge up on the canvases and paint, each magicked to produce mobile subjects. Most artists scrimped for years to afford the amount of supplies he'd snapped up in a day. "I didn't steal any," he growled.

Remus' eyebrows drew together. "I didn't say you did, but I am curious how could you afford so much."

"Dear old home sweet home," Sirius bit back scathingly. "Both of my parental units squirreled away enough coins for fear of a Gringotts failure. I'm the only one left of the _illustrious_ Blacks so it's mine anyway."

"And you spent it on paint." Was that criticism? Disappointment? Or simple incredulity?

"I always wanted to learn to paint."

"You did?"

"Yes. Now get out. I'm not begging prattling appraisal."

Remus looked down at the painting in his lap and his voice fell to a whisper. "They aren't half bad, really."

"They're rubbish!" Sirius shouted, rushing into the room and snatching the painting away from Remus. "Prongs' antlers are uneven, your nose is misshapen, my eyes are the wrong color, and Peter…it's just a blob of grey!"

Remus stared up at him. "I didn't notice those things."

"Did you notice this?" The painting clattered to the floor and Sirius jabbed a finger at the depiction of James and Lily's wedding. "Her hair wasn't this red. James' left earlobe is missing that stray freckle in the shape of a hook." He flung a hand at other canvases. "Your smile was quirkier, the map's all messed up, and Peter…he…his chin…"

Sirius shrieked, whipping out his wand. Remus ducked when blasts rang out, striking canvas after canvas, blasting holes and scorching silently screaming figures trying to get away from the carnage.

"Sirius, stop!" Remus jumped up, grasping at Sirius' arm as he continued to blast away. "Padfoot! Please!" He produced his own wand and cried out, "Expelliarmus!"

Sirius snarled when his wand fled his grasp, whirling around, raising a balled fist. Remus shoved Sirius' wand into his right hand and lowered both weapons at the same time as his other hand shot out to wrap around Sirius' white-knuckled fist. He braced himself, prepared for an imminent attack.

Sirius' heart stuttered at his old friend's defensive posture. "Moony…I…I…" His legs went to jelly. Remus' hand tightened around his fist and his arm draped across his shoulders, guiding him to the floor. Sirius' entire body went limp, and Remus relinquished his hand when his fingers uncurled from a potential punch. Sirius's throat swelled, his eyes burned, and flood gates poured open, tears scorching down his cheeks. "They took everything. Every happy memory, every person that meant anything. Prongs and me and you and…and…" He pressed into Remus' supportive shoulder like a pitiful lost child. "I want it back. Please get it back."

"I…can't…" Remus stammered, choked, then shook with his own sudden, violent sobs. Sirius buried his forehead deeper into the man's shoulder, freely mourning with the one person in the world who even had the slightest chance of understanding.

* * *

A flowery aroma wafted upwards from a china cup steaming with boiled water steeped with tea from a stray cannister Remus had dug out from the back of a cupboard. Sirius took a sip as the ceramic tea pot thumped against the wood and Remus joined him on the floor with his own cup. Sirius swallowed the warm goodness slowly, savoring the liquid soothing his raw throat, and sheepishly glanced at the destruction his childish outburst had wrought. He lowered the cup to his crossed legs. "Moony, I'm sor…"

"Don't. Apologize."

Sirius looked over at a face he recalled as sometimes exasperated but mostly kind momentarily hardening.

"You went through hell. Never apologize for it."

Sirius carded a hand through his shorter hair, still coarse and dull, and stared down at the dark liquid in his cup.

Remus watched his old friend lower his red-rimmed eyes, staunchly ignoring the itching on his own cheeks, evidence of a grief he hadn't allowed purchase for a very long time. But those first few years… "I wept. Almost nightly. After James and Lily…and you and…well…"

"Peter." The name fell like deadweight from Sirius' lips.

"All I had left was memories." Remus set his tea cup on the floor and reached out to pull a canvas towards him, the one he'd been holding when Sirius turned the room into a targeting range. It had mercifully come out unscathed. The three Animagi and the werewolf had apparently tired of their scampering, instead piled in a heap in the middle of the canvas, deep in slumber. Remus chuckled at Padfoot on his side, tongue lolling out. Despite the lack of tangible sound, he could hear the snuffling snoring they'd always teased their friend about. "You remember the first time?"

Sirius looked up. Remus was studying the Animagi painting. It seemed intact. He must have missed it in his tirade. "We snuck into the shack."

"I smelled you coming. I was terrified. I recognized the scents and I didn't. They were different."

"You howled so loud. Went after me immediately."

"And Prongs got his first good hit in. Good thing I couldn't remember how much it hurt. But I had that huge bruise for days after."

"You wouldn't let us see it. Kept hiding behind your bed curtains." Sirius' lips curved upwards.

"Until all of you tore them down at once." Remus' eyes twinkled as he fixed on Sirius.

"Poor old Moony. Not wanting to let on we'd really hurt you."

"You apologized all over yourselves anyway. I came so close to crying…just out of gratitude."

"That's why James messed your hair and tossed you into the bed."

"And you lot turned it into a trampoline acting like complete nutters." Remus laughed aloud.

A warmth rose in Sirius' chest, bubbling over into a deep chuckle. "We broke it. Had to _reparo_ it back together."

"Multiple times. Do you remember how it kept cracking again? Even in the middle of the night?"

"Yeah." Sirius snorted a laugh and took another sip from his cup.

Remus sighed and did the same, then tapped the edge of the Animagi painting. "We lost a lot, but we didn't lose it all. They're still there somewhere, the good times, down deep where no one can take them from us."

Sirius set his cup on the floor and wrung his hands in his lap. "Moony, I thought the traitor to the Order could have been you. That's why I didn't tell you we switched Secret Keepers."

Remus swallowed and slowly set down his own cup. "You didn't know why I was spending all that time with werewolf packs."

"I shouldn't have thought it."

"You didn't know it was Order business and I was told to keep it secret."

"I still should have trusted you."

Remus rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "And I shouldn't have believed you'd betray James… It's the worst mistake of my life."

Sirius' hands balled into fists. "Not worse than handing the Dark Lord's servant the information that got Prongs and Lily killed."

"And why would you think it was Peter?" Remus' voice rose in volume. "He was the last any of us would suspect. Don't carry that burden, Padfoot." He reached out to touch Sirius' wrist. Sirius looked over at him and his agitated fingers stilled. "We can't go back, but we can go forward."

Sirius blinked. "Forward?"

Remus pointed at the wedding painting of Lily and James, burned on the edges but still visible embracing each other and smiling as if the world held nothing but promise. "They're still here. Alive in Harry. You're his godfather."

"In case you hadn't forgotten, I'm a fugitive on the run." Sirius uncrossed his legs and steepled his knees, resting his elbows on them and twining both hands in his hair.

"You told him you'd see him again. You gave him hope. He needs you."

"It should have been _you_. You were always the better man."

"Padfoot…"

"When James and I were chasing birds and bragging about our prowess, you kept your clean nose in a book, staying out of it when our inflated heads got out of hand."

"James and Lily didn't choose me."

Sirius laughed scornfully. "And a criminal gone insane is a good choice for a fatherly substitute?"

"You aren't insane."

"No? What do you call all this?" He gestured around the room decorated with blasted canvases.

"I call it trying to make peace." Remus leaned closer toward him. "I kept an album. For years I looked at each photo every night until I didn't need to turn the pages anymore."

Sirius scrubbed at his eyes. "I won't be good enough for Harry. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever."

"He doesn't need perfection. He needs someone who can love him. Someone close to his father, like you."

"Then _you_ be that for him."

Remus laughed derisively, running a finger along a scabbed line crossing his cheek. "A man who becomes a raging beast once a month shouldn't be in charge of a child. Thank you, by the way. For protecting Harry and Ron and Hermione from me."

"Old times," Sirius sighed. "Look, that's just once a month, if…"

"I had to resign. Parents know."

"How?"

"Snape."

"Of course." Sirius hardened his jaw and clenched his fists.

"Don't go after him. He's not worth it. But now that the truth is out there, I'll have to register with the ministry."

"What?" Sirius balked, sitting up straight. "But you'll have an even harder time finding work!"

"Right, so I'm not the one to provide for Harry."

"I have some money left over…"

"No. I won't take it. You'll need it."

"For what?"

"Rebuilding your life."

"On the run?"

"Just because you're hiding doesn't mean you have to give up living. And having a family. With Harry. It's what James and Lily wanted if they couldn't be here for him."

Sirius nailed him with a piercing gaze. "I thought you were the intelligent one. I stay out of everyone's lives and they're better for it."

"Not Harry's."

"Especially Harry's."

"And not mine," Remus added, eyes flashing. "I lost all of you. James dead, you in prison, Peter…well, I thought he was gone. I never thought…I never considered…" He swallowed hard and blinked against eyes gone glossy. "I'd ever get any of you back. Don't leave me alone again, Padfoot. I don't think I can take it."

"Mate," Sirius breathed, studying him intently.

"We're the ones who get the _privilege_ to go on living. So don't you dare dishonor James and Lily by giving up on yourself."

A lilting breeze toyed with the curling hair at the base of Sirius' neck, pulling his attention to the open window. Gaps in the fluttering curtain provided sights of the exotic island and the scent of deeply salted air. "We said we'd come here."

Remus stuffed a hand back into his pocket and retrieved the old advert. "That's how I found you. You left this behind."

Sirius looked to the slick ad and a voice from the past rang in his ears. _Sardinia! Brilliant, Padfoot! We'll make it a smashing holiday. A summer trip. Just the four us!_ James, always ready for any adventure Sirius slightly hinted at. He reached out and accepted the advert with trembling fingers, running his eyes over the faded signatures.

"Two of us made it."

Sirius inhaled another long breath. "You're all I have left."

"And Harry."

"And Harry."

"So what are you going to do?"

Sirius firmed his jaw and crumpled the advert, tossing it over his shoulder. "Marauders first, Gryffindors second."

Remus grinned at their old catchphrase and held out his hand. Sirius took it and they shared a frim handshake, absent the others who had once made up their little pact.

Sirius nodded solemnly. "I'll go back. When the coast is clear enough."

Remus released his grip and picked up his tea cup. Sirius followed, then stalled and raised the cup high instead. "To James. And Lily."

Remus' lips thinned, but the corners remained turned upwards. "James and Lily." Two tea cups clinked together softly.

Sirius cradled his cup close to his chest. "I suppose a proper guardian would send Harry a letter. Explain a few things."

Remus nodded. "It would be a good first step."

"Oh, not really a first." Sirius' eyes gleamed mischievously. "I'd consider the gift of a Firebolt a better first step."

Remus gaped. "What? How did you manage that without anyone seeing you?"

"That's a fun story. It's a fortunate thing some cats aren't terrified of dogs…"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Although I've enjoyed reading Harry Potter fanfiction, I'd never considered making an excursion into it myself until I read MamaStreet's "Sehnsucht." While reading her fic a storyline popped into my head and I graciously obtained permission to use an idea she created-Sirius turning to painting. I want to thank MamaStreet for her allowing me to use her idea and also for being a wonderful beta for this fic (as well as pointing me to the title). I heartily recommend "Sehnsucht" which has made me fall in love with the world of Harry Potter all over again.


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